Ghost
by Gentle Breezes
Summary: When she is reunited with him, it is not all flowers and sunshine, dramatic running across some street only to jump into his arms.


**Disclaimer: **The Jak and Daxter Games and the characters therein all belong to Naughty Dog.

* * *

When she is reunited with him, it is not all flowers and sunshine, dramatic running across some street only to jump into his arms.

She's on guard duty that night, Haven's wonderful weather dumping water incessantly on every inch of the city. Trudging through the mud and puddles, her head isn't in the game; this just isn't the night for paying attention.

She blames herself for letting her guard down, thinking about the comrades she's lost over the years as she turns a corner when someone dares to grab her arm from behind. Her assailant doesn't get away with it immediately, earning a couple of direct punches and kicks to some very sensitive areas. But within moments she's been disarmed of any gun or knife on her person, and has her back against the wall. Her mind rushes for a solution, and comes up with one rather quickly, which she would've put to good use if it hadn't been for the sound of the voice that stopped her.

"Ashelin!"

It's not the manner of silent but rather urgent whispering that makes her stop. It's just the sound of his voice. She never thought she'd hear it again, and swears to any and everything that she _must _be dreaming.

"...Torn?"

What light can be spared in the dark alley shines against part of his face, showing her slightly sunken cheeks and bruises to signify the state of deprivation he's been living in, minus the effects of her previous punches. He's not as strong as he used to be either. She could have him backed against this wall in seconds if she chose to do so. His eyes looked more edgy than they ever did before.

But she doesn't say anything about that, instead tugging off his hood so that she can verify that it really is him, and not some cheap trick or apparition. And for that one moment, she doesn't care a bit that the rain outside the alley can't conceal her tears already dripping down her cheeks. Nor does she care that the man whom she once called "friend" and had supposedly died a year ago presses her against the wall and kisses her without a single word of warning, still trying to catch his breath from running, stealing her breath away in the process.

When he pulls away from her, it takes her roughly five to suddenly remember that he's alive and he hadn't bothered to tell her before. She slaps him soundly, asking him how he could deceive her and everyone who knew him. All those nights when she had stayed up crying when no one else was watching, all those days of walking past his empty office, looking at her comm and hoping in vain he would answer back one day. All of this, only to find he's _alive_?

He doesn't turn away as her hand hits him soundly on the cheek, leaving such a large red splotch that she almost regrets it. The creeping remorse in his eyes and his quick apology makes her regret complete. He says that it had needed to be done in order for him to join the Underground. His eyes are haunted by memories as he explains what happened, how he and his men had snuck off, how many he'd lost in the process. But, he's finally able to change things so the city can become free.

She stares at the man before her, a shadow of the person he used to be, malnourished and in need of muscle, and she finds she can't deny what he says even if it sounds crazy. By all rationality she shouldn't believe him. And yet, something burns in his eyes that wasn't there before. She dares not call it hope, for fear that someone might just come and take it away, because that was how Haven work. But that's what it is, and she can't say what he says isn't possible.

This just might work.

The guards call out for her, and she feels his heartbeat jump to maximum under the hand she had rested on his chest. His muscles tense, breathing increased, adrenaline running through his veins. He's about to run. But she stops him.

"I want to help," she says, grabbing a fistful of his collar to keep him in place. "And don't tell me otherwise. This is my chance to change things too, and this city needs it more than anything right now."

He wants to say no; it shows clearly on his face even in the dimness of the alley, in the way that his grip on her arms tightens with anxiety. The dangers are ten-fold for anyone who dares to go against the government, and to be in her position and help the Underground is signing her own death warrant. But he knows her too well to refuse, and nods as he tells her she'll receive instructions in a few days.

And then he takes off, nothing left to indicate he was there other than the shivers that run up her arms from loss of warmth.

When she slips back into view of the guards and they ask her where why she looked so pale, she merely responds:

"Just thought I saw a ghost."

* * *

**A/N: **Hrrrrrrk I haven't posted anything in so long.

FYI, as you can see above, my headcanon is that Torn faked his death to get to the Underground.

Word to the wise, kids. Even if you don't post anything, don't stop writing even if you're busy in uni (so long as it doesn't get in the way). Write on break or something, otherwise you start wondering where all your ideas and inspiration ran off to.

I will probably come back and edit this because it's a bit messy, as you can tell, but I've had this sitting in my computer collecting dust and I figured "Hey, why not?"

Any suggestions/comments are welcome, I bid you good day, study hard for those finals, et cetera.

Thank you for reading!


End file.
